A Lair Shared is not so Cold
by Larahna Steadyblade
Summary: Five times someone new came to Stan's cave, and one time they said goodbye. Welcome to the Dragon Falls AU.


The first time a new human came to him was an accident.

A child wandered into his lair, lost and alone. The pathetic thing kept whimpering, begging him not to eat it. It had curled up tightly as he approached and wailed as he inhaled deeply. He stepped back after a moment, waiting for the cries to stop before asking where its parents were. It sniffled before saying its parents were gone – they had gone to fight another dragon and not returned. It lived with its grandmother but had gotten turned around while collecting firewood.

He shifted on his feet, hesitating a moment before going back over to the child. It pressed itself into the wall of his cave but went deathly still as he lifted it by its thin coat. He carried the small thing back to his hoard and settled himself before setting the child against the smooth skin of his belly. He had no soft place for the youngster to sleep, he explained, but at least it would be warm huddled against him. He told it to call him Stan in hopes that a name would make him seem friendlier. It remained stiff for a few minutes, but slowly sank against him, and soon its hitching breaths slowed into sleepy snores. He wrapped his tail around himself until the tip touched his nose, drawing the little human closer. It stirred lightly but did not wake. He blew lightly on the tiny human and almost laughed as it snuggled closer to his not-quite-fire breath.

When morning came, he returned the child to its grandmother, flying away as she called for the village hunters to deal with the fearsome beast. A human stumbling upon his den was not unheard of – usually adolescents looking for a thrill – and he had walked his fair share of the fragile beings home before.

He was a little surprised to wake three days later with the same child curled against his belly. None of them had returned before.

Oh well, he thought as he wrapped himself around it. He would nag it about scaring its family later… after he had his fill of cuddling.

* * *

The second time was an intrusion.

The first child's name was Soos. Soos liked to come by his cave in the afternoon, after he finished his chores and studying for the day. The beast never minded. The boy tidied up and occasionally brought little trinkets; a pretty seashell or a fancy bead. Nothing of any monetary value, but little treasures all the same.

The beast made certain to sneak little gold coins into the boy's pockets frequently. He didn't look like he missed many meals, but everything he wore was old, patched, and close to falling apart. The dragon denied it every time the boy tried to bring it up, but they both knew the money was from the hoard.

One day the boy brought a small bag of sparkly rocks – absolutely worthless, but shiny and a gift from Soos, so still special – but he refused to hand it over right away. The boy made him promise not to get mad. The beast watched him amusedly as he stuttered and wrung his hands. Finally, the child sighed and exited the cave for a minute before coming back with another human in tow.

This new human gasped at the sight of him. He was almost offended; at seventy feet long with twelve-inch claws and literal fire for breath, he struck fear into the hearts of most humans, but this one seemed entertained at the sight of him. He considered growling at the pesky creature, but he didn't want to frighten Soos. A lose-lose situation where he would either drive away the one human he liked or be embarrassed by the new one.

He stayed quiet.

The two humans bantered back and forth for some time. The new one, Wendy, was astonished that he existed, and Soos was incredibly proud that Wendy believed him. By the time they stopped a storm had picked up outside, and neither human felt safe walking home in the downpour.

Soos, having been a regular visitor of the cave for nine years, quickly settled down against the belly of the beast. He wrapped himself in one of the blankets he had brought years ago and offered another to Wendy. The dragon puffed up a bit when she hesitated – she had some sense after all – but immediately slunk back down when Soos patted his stomach and said in no uncertain terms that although large and scary-looking, the beast was completely harmless. She climbed the large pile of gold and jewels, taking the offered blanket and sitting stiffly against his leathery hide, then burst out laughing as she relaxed.

Apparently, his stomach felt just like the leather couch her father had built. She remarked that it reminded her of home and burrowed deeper into one of the folds in his paunch, quickly falling asleep.

The beast huffed irritably. He was not a couch! He was a fearsome dragon. A monster!

His frustration didn't keep him from listening when Soos explained that she was stressed at home, and the boy had thought that an adventure to see a "wicked awesome" dragon might help her relax. His hackles lowered further when Soos said in a quiet voice that her mother had died a few years ago and seeing her change from a vibrant wild child to a reserved, laid-back teen had been sad.

The dragon finally settled down when he noticed that all of the tension in the little girl's shoulders had finally seeped out of her. He wrapped his tail around the two, touching the tip to his nose by habit and blowing on the little humans to keep them warm. Soos relaxed against him and quickly began snoring. Wendy smiled in her sleep and burrowed further into his warmth.

Maybe having two humans wouldn't be so bad.

* * *

The third time had to be a mistake.

Soos and Wendy visited him frequently. Soos continued to bring little knick-knacks, so many that the beast had to rearrange his hoard to make room for them all. Wendy brought things, too, but items of a far different caliber. Where Soos brought pretty things, Wendy brought stupid things. Not things he hated, to be clear, just silly things he would never get for himself. A human coat from a rich man she hated, bits of broken glass from the dump – to keep away intruders – and hundreds upon hundreds of rocks. Not pretty rocks. Just plain rocks.

Her excuse was that dragons collected stuff that they never used anyway, so why bother getting money? She laughed every time he growled at her, but the rocks actually made for a nice little wall when stacked together, and he used said wall to protect Soos' treasures in case his regular hoard ever collapsed. He supposed she was helping in a roundabout way, so he didn't argue, but he continued to grouse her for it every time she brought another gray rock into his cave.

He wasn't sure what to say when the two brought more humans.

Soos had never brought anyone other than Wendy to his lair, and while Wendy had brought other teens close to scare them, she never took anyone inside. Now they stood there sheepishly, with two small children standing between them, apology clear in their faces. The little girl immediately started talking about how to knit a dragon-sized sweater while the boy talked a mile a minute about how he _knew_ dragons were real but had never had any proof. It sent a pang through his heart to hear the boy's theories and research.

He almost panicked when the new girl rushed up and grabbed his leg. After a moment he realized she was hugging him and calmed down, but then got nervous again when the boy started asking questions.

Who was he?

Why was he here, in Gravity Falls? Wouldn't he rather be elsewhere, where gold and treasure were more readily available?

Did he know about the book with the six-fingered golden hand on the front?

He couldn't answer most of the questions. He didn't dare. Finally, he told the children to just call him Stan. The girl squealed in joy – apparently, they were Pines children, which sent ice down his spine – and told him her name was Mabel. The boy clearly distrusted him, but after a while said he went by Dipper. The four of them stayed in his cave for several hours before Soos announced that it was getting dark and they should head out. Stan was initially glad when they left. Too many unexpected people at once had left him on edge. However, after a few minutes, loneliness started to set in. He was accustomed to someone staying and sleeping next to him by now, and the lack of that company rubbed him wrong.

Dragons didn't need much sleep, but any time he spent sleeping was time he didn't have to spend thinking. Working. Focusing. Analyzing. Too much, too difficult, not smart enough, _I'm sorry…_ He drifted off after a while. Sorting through scrolls strained his eyes, and the hunched-over position required for reading them made his back ache. It seemed like only seconds later that he was awakened by the sound of gold coins falling from his pile. He reared his head, growling at the would-be thieves who were foolish enough to rob a dragon…

And immediately stopped when he realized it was only Mabel and Dipper, who were now clinging to each other in fear. A terrible second impression. He would have kicked himself if he could figure out how. He settled instead for laying back down – the smaller he looked, the less frightening he would come across – and rumbling his chest gently.

Mabel had immediately disentangled herself from Dipper and pressed against his side, joyfully exclaiming that Stan sounded like a cat. He let out a breathy chuckle and flopped on his side so the girl could lean against his smooth belly rather than his rough scales. She snuggled up against him, beaming and completely relaxed. After a moment, Dipper joined her. He struggled up the pile of treasure and fell against Stan's stomach. The dragon lazily grabbed one of Soos' blankets in his teeth and dragged it over the little twins. The two cuddled up together, sending a pang through Stan's heart.

 _Soon._

He curled himself around the children the same way he curled around Soos or Wendy when they spent the night, blowing on them softly for warmth. Dipper fell asleep quickly, and Stan assumed Mabel had dropped off shortly after, but soon her hesitating voice broke the silence.

She asked him why he stayed in the cave. Why he didn't leave, even though he was a kind dragon and could have made friends in town. He wasn't sure how to tell her that he couldn't leave – he had to find the spell to open the door in the back of the cave. Even if it opened on its own, he had to be there. He couldn't leave _him_ alone… Not after Stan had failed him so long ago.

He told her that he didn't like humans very much and stayed in his cave so he wouldn't have to talk to them. She didn't believe him – heck, he didn't believe himself. But she accepted his answer anyway, and soon drifted off to sleep.

Maybe one day he would be able to explain it to her. Maybe he could introduce her to _him._ That would be nice.

 _He_ would probably like her.

* * *

The fourth time was the universe's idea of a sick joke.

His brother was back. Stan had finally mish-mashed a spell together that could bring Ford back from wherever he had disappeared to when he fell through that mystic door all those years ago.

And Ford was _livid_.

Everything Stan had worked for, everything he had sacrificed, 30 _years_ of work had finally brought Ford back into his life, and the stars were laughing at him. Of course Ford didn't want to see him. Of course Ford hated him. _Of course Ford wasn't sorry for turning him into a monster._

Then again, what should he expect? He had pushed Ford, after all. His brother hadn't meant to brand him, and he definitely didn't know the symbol would turn humans into dragons. Stan was still a little bitter about Ford shooting him with an enchanted crossbow immediately after coming through the magical door, but he knew he would end up forgiving his twin.

He always did in the end.

The young Pines twins had been surprised to learn that the dragon they had spent so much time with was actually their great uncle. Dipper had of course been ecstatic to meet the author of the journals – he had been seeking a mind similar to his own his whole life, and now here was a man who shared his interests and intelligence. Mabel had been just as excited, but for totally different reasons. She had started knitting him a sweater almost immediately. Even in the summer heat, the cave became quite cold at night.

The younger twins had settled down against Stan's belly as per usual. They had asked Ford to join them, but of course he had refused – too much research to be done in the back of the cave. As the children's breathing evened out, Stan started to curl around them, then lifted his head as footsteps had started to approach him. He hoped Ford had come to ask to join the group, not offer an ultimatum.

 _You can stay as long as the children are here, but as soon as they return home, I want you out of my cave. You've destroyed enough of my research as it is._

It hurt more than being shot. He felt his heart crumbling and wanted nothing more than to shoot back a barb about how Ford's research had been what hurt him, not his family. He couldn't.

 _Fine_ , he had answered as he wrapped himself around his niblings. _But stay away from these kids. As far as I'm concerned, they're the only family I've got left._

* * *

The fifth time was a painful homecoming.

Stan had allowed himself to be dragged by the little children. He had no idea who they were, only that they really, _really_ wanted him to go in the cave. They introduced themselves as Mabel and Dipper and told him that he was their Great Uncle Stanley Pines – or as Mabel lovingly called him, 'Grunkle Stan.'

He stumbled along on shaky legs. They felt wrong somehow, but he wasn't sure why. His back ached and his shoulder burned something fierce, but he didn't comment. He was too entranced by the beautiful cave.

Crystals lined the ceiling, sending flecks of multicolored light everywhere. A huge pile of gold and jewels sat in the center of the cavern, with several warm-looking blankets strewn across the top. He resisted the urge to grab clawfuls of gold and stuff it in the crevices between his scales. Someone had built a small wall out of stones, and behind it sat loads of junk, carefully arranged to display every piece. His stomach sank as he noticed a small passage that led further back in the cave – it filled him with guilt and dread just looking at it – but thankfully the children did not lead him back there. Instead, they picked up piece after piece of the stuff hidden behind the haphazardly-built wall and asked him, begged him to remember what they were.

The man with them stood nearby, crossing and uncrossing his arms, wringing his hands together, and glancing around every so often. Stan would almost swear he saw tears in the man's eye at one point, but perhaps it was a trick of the light. What did the stranger even have to be upset about?

After a few minutes, the other man seemed to lose his resolve. His arms dropped to his sides, he fell to his knees, and simply began to cry. Giant drops of pain poured down his cheeks in waterfalls of agony, and quiet sobs escaped his lips. He scrubbed at his face with his hands, trying to wipe away his tears, but they kept coming faster than he could dry them, and after a moment he gave up.

Stan couldn't let that slide.

He dropped his left wing around the stranger, whispering consolations and murmured reassurances to him. Something about this all seemed so familiar – had he comforted someone like this before? The other man let out a loud wail as Stanley continued to hold him, grabbing tightly to the leathery appendage as if it was a life preserver. The children backed off to give them some privacy. Stan continued to brace the stranger, rubbing circles into his back with the end of his tail, and after an eternity his cries softened to pitiful whimpers. Then the whispers had started.

 _I'm sorry…_

 _It should have been me to pay the price, not you…_

 _I wasn't good enough…_

 _If I could take your place, I would…_

 _You should have left me to rot behind the door…_

That was where Stan drew the line. He didn't know who this guy was, but surely he didn't deserve to be stuck somewhere away from his friends and family, and he said as much to the stranger. The man went to turn away, but Stan poked his snout at the man's face and forcefully held his gaze.

 _Whatever happened, no matter how terrible, if it saved you from a worse fate – it was worth it. Stop beating yourself up. You deserve to be safe as much as anybody._

The absolute heartbreak in the man's eyes cracked Stan's own heart a little, and drew a single painful memory out of the fog in his mind.

They had been sitting on a wrecked boat on a beach he couldn't quite remember. The other boy with him had been sobbing hysterically, pulling on the last finger on each of his hands, begging Stan to find something to remove them with. He had of course refused, which distressed the other boy even further. He had demanded to know why Stan would stick around such a freak. _You're not a freak. You're my brother. Those extra fingers don't make you a mistake, they make ya special. Those guys don't even know what they're missin', 'cause you're the best friend anybody could ask for. I ain't gonna take yer fingers off, bro, 'cause without 'em you're not my Sixer._

Stan looked over the crying man before him. Sure, he was old now – the vibrancy of youth had left his features long ago – but his hands were the same as the ones in his memory. Maybe he would take solace in Stan's single memory as well?

 _Chin up, Sixer. It's gonna be okay._

The sobs quieted.

 _Stanley?_

Maybe Stan didn't remember everything. Maybe he never would. But if it would keep Sixer looking as hopeful as he did in that moment, then Stan would never stop trying to remember. He smiled at his brother as best he could with his draconian lips.

 _I've got you, bro._

Sixer yelped as Stan picked him up by the back of his coat and clambered up the pile of gold. Once there he flopped down on his side and set his brother gently against his belly – the close proximity felt familiar, and it was cold in the cave anyway. He smiled as Sixer pressed further into him, making little rivers of gold stream down the pile.

Mabel and Dipper climbed up after them, carrying lots of blankets. The three humans curled up together, leaning on Stan's stomach. The dragon helped arrange the blankets around them before curling up around them, pressing the tip of his tail against his nose and blowing softly on his little humans.

Maybe none of this was familiar… But it felt right.

* * *

The sixth time was a goodbye.

Stan wobbled slightly as Ford walked with him to the cave that had been his prison for 30 years. He still wasn't used to walking on human legs again. He wondered if he ever would be.

Ford looked back as he stopped briefly. He almost didn't want to enter the cave – there were too many painful memories of lonely nights, missing the one person he wanted to see.

 _We don't have to go in if you don't want to._

Stan smiled at his twin. He did need to go in. All of Soos' gifts were in there. All of Ford's scrolls were in there.

 _Wendy left a nice pile of broken glass in there. Can't leave that._

Ford laughed heartily.

 _No, of course not. And…_ He hesitated a moment before steeling himself. _If you want… We could get a pretty nice boat with all that gold._

Stan couldn't help but stare at Ford with wide eyes.

 _You… You would go sailing with me?_

Ford grabbed his hand and steadied him.

 _I WANT to go sailing with you._

The tears came hot and fast. Soon they were just leaning on each other, holding each other up as they both let the pain of a lifetime spent alone and afraid wash away.

 _Yeah. Let's go._

* * *

A/N:

Wklv lvq'w wkh hqg.

"Caesar has gained three new stab wounds. A pity."

Also posted on AO3. Same title, username Larahna_Steadyblade.


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